


Counterfeit

by needsmoreyellow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Fix-It, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2494154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needsmoreyellow/pseuds/needsmoreyellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's not okay, but he can pretend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counterfeit

**Author's Note:**

> Find on Tumblr [here](http://needsmoreyellow.tumblr.com/post/100655835246/dean-cas-10x03-coda-deans-not-okay-but-he-can#_=_).

“Hey-“

Castiel stops just short of exiting the room, fingers curled around the edge of the door. He turns back, as Dean knew he would, and says “Yes?” like Dean knew he would, and Dean exhales out his nose like he expects it to get rid of any of the shit things he’s feeling.

It doesn’t.

It’s enough to makes Cas step closer, right in front of Dean where he was and where he belongs. The push of his hand when he steps away forces the door half-shut, which is somehow better even though Dean knows Sam literally just left.

He sighs, shifts, and Cas stares at him without saying a thing, which is good because Dean can’t even form real thoughts, let alone be expected to uphold a conversation.

“Look, man, I just-“ He starts, but his head’s completely hollow. He doesn’t even know what he wants to say, or why. “Can you just-“

Cas still says nothing. Dean sighs because he doesn’t _know_ , he just needs _something_ , and maybe he’s still fucked up (most definitely) but he feels like being selfish just because he damn well can.

“C’mere.” He says, without really moving, and Cas does, a soft and confused little “oh” coming out of his mouth that is one good thing in this fucked up world. He fits easily into Dean’s arms, silent when Dean presses his cheek to his hair and inhales; when he curls around Cas and tucks him in and takes his weight.

It feels like something. It feels, for a few goddamn seconds, like he’s doing _something_ and taking care of Cas and being _needed_ for _something_ even though he knows it isn’t true. Like maybe he’s actually the one who’s stable, like he's not Dean Winchester.

“Dean,” Cas starts, and then stops, hugging back and burying into Dean like he _knows,_ like he actually _knows_ what Dean wants, and it’s a fucking miracle.

“Yeah.” Dean replies. He does everything his mom would probably do; rubs at Cas’ back, pets at his hair, makes little sounds that mean nothing but sounds comforting just because. It’s easier than words.

The photos on Dean’s bed say nothing. His mom says nothing and Sam says nothing and Bobby says nothing, because they aren’t here. Cas hums happily when Dean presses his palm into the small of his back, and outright smiles – _thank God_ – when Dean presses a hard kiss to his forehead and a soft kiss to his mouth, catching his chin between his fingers to hold him still for the few seconds it lasts.

And then he leaves. Dean lets go and Cas lets go and he leaves, pulling the door shut behind him, and Dean has absolutely no idea where he’s going or when Sam will come back, he has no idea when the bunker won’t be silent, and he’s not okay.

But he can pretend.  


End file.
